


Donuts + Gunshots

by CommanderBunnBunn



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Cairo Day 2020, Gen, Gun Violence, POV Outsider, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23694442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderBunnBunn/pseuds/CommanderBunnBunn
Summary: Outsider POV for Cairo week 2020Warning for swear words and gun violence.
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

Officer April Mitchell and Sergeant Allison Hernandez sat side by side in the back corner booth at the donut shop- furthest from the door, near the bathroom, with full view of the entire store, backs to no one. It’s more practice than policy, but it was an important one to follow. 

Sgt. Hernandez always spent her afternoon in this particular donut shop around 3pm. It was a slow time both for the store and for her squad, a perfect time to grab a cup of coffee and approve the daily reports. 

“So why is it you come here to approve the dailies? My FTO said that Sargeants usually just sit in their office to do that.” April asked, tightening her drooping ponytail. She was three weeks into her field training and her FTO was out sick. He’d picked up strep from one of his 5 kids, so Allison thought she’d show the newbie the paperwork side of the job. That’s what it was anyway, mostly paperwork. Every promotion resulted in more paperwork. 

“I like to be out in the community, show my face, be present. The citizens appreciate it too. Especially when you’re a regular. See, Dev over there owns the place, but he’s always here putting in the hours, showing his employees that everyone works.” She waved and nodded to the man behind the counter running the sales report for the day, he waved back. “So why should I spend my time hiding behind a desk?” Allison explained with a smile, her newly forming wrinkles and sparkling silver streaks leading to her tightly wound bun much more apparent in the fluorescent lights in the donut shop. There was ample sunshine coming in the windows surrounding the front and sides of the building, but the unflattering fluorescent lights always stayed on, day and night. 

She continued, “Plus, reviewing these reports, I’m more of a proofreader or editor than the person approving them. Good god, most of these boys are terrible at grammar and spelling. Look at this one,” she pointed to the screen and the egregious misuse of “there” in a report. “Casey is a great officer, a hard worker, but he can’t spell to save his life. I had to hammer it into his head to put into his reports ‘I observed’ instead of ‘I seen’ yadda yadda.” She shook her head in amused disbelief and April couldn’t help but laugh. 

They both took another sip of coffee, and April took another forkful of egg. “Would you be offended if I stole your afternoon hideout for myself once I get released? This food is amazing, and the coffee is great.” April asked and Allison shrugged. “It’s kinda quiet though, you can hear everyone’s conversation.”

“Oh man, can you ever. I’ve heard some truly awful conversations, and I just sit here pretending not to listen, but sometimes I have to hide my face and laugh.” 

“You’ll have to tell me about them sometime, but let’s see what these two are up to.” she glanced toward the two men about to enter the front door. 

“This should be interesting. It’s usually construction workers and moms with kids in tow for an afternoon treat this time of day. What’s your initial assessment?” The older officer asked.

“You mean like, what kind of reading do I get off of them? You want me to be professional about it or girl talk?” April asked, excited for the prospect of training with another woman, but also unsure due to her higher rank and tenure. 

“Both, of course.” 

“Ok, let’s see. They’re age gapped like us, so probably coworkers of some kind, slight chance of a familial relation. I’d have to see how they interact first. Not construction, clothes are clean. Dressed for much cooler weather than we’re experiencing, so that’s a red flag.”

“Good catch.”

“The silver fox there walks behind the blond in a very protective way. I’m starting to press more toward a father/son thing. Maybe the son is...I don’t know, delicate? That’s not the word, but I get really powerful papa bear vibes from the older one, but not sure why the other needs protecting.” 

“Interesting.” Allison gave no further input and waited for her charge to continue.

“Oh,” April had an epiphany, “The blonde guy is really pretty, maybe he’s someone famous that I just don’t know about and that’s his security detail. Did they come in a blacked out SUV? I don’t see any new cars in the parking lot.”

“Good catch, I did see one pull in a few minutes ago, probably parked around back.”

“Which is what I would have done off duty.” the new officer with a strawberry blonde ponytail added. “So maybe they’re not civilians. Or at least the one in charge isn’t.” She thought a moment as the men entered the establishment and ordered. “The unseasonal jacket is probably covering a carry, no imprint, so he’s good at it. So there’s another point toward security detail, or maybe investigators from another jurisdiction.” 

April lowered her voice as they grabbed a table in the center of the room, looking very casual and happy awaiting their coffee orders. “They’re both unreasonably attractive. I’m not sure what to think anymore. The pretty blonde one has nowhere to put a weapon in his tight ass clothes, I’d think maybe trust fund kid or maybe mafia progeny would explain the security detail, but they seem too personable and close to each other. Whatever they are, they’re close, like family close, but something isn’t on the level.”

“Your instincts are good, kid. Keep your guard up while I finish proofing these dailies.”

The older guy with the taller than necessary faux hawk scanned the parking lot and the donut shop for the fourth time in several minutes while his partner got their coffee from the counter. A regular joe probably wouldn’t have noticed this paranoid behavior because he was quite smooth about it. Definitely a professional, but a professional what she wasn’t sure yet.

He noticed the girl in the back booth watching him and gave her a friendly nod and wave. She smiled nervously and pretended to pay attention to the computer her Sargeant was using. 

Allison quietly called her out, “you gotta get better and watching like you’re not watching. I mean we’re not in plainclothes so we won’t get made, but you don’t want people to know you’re watching them. Makes them uncomfortable, especially when you’re in this lovely black polyester getup.” Allison thumped the shiny silver badge on her temporary trainee’s chest and went back to work. 

April’s casual observing of the men didn’t go unnoticed, so she decided to play it off like she was flirting. She flashed a cheeky grin at the man old enough to be her father; he seemed flattered and amused and appeared to tell his friend about his admirer. The blonde also turned around to smile and wave. 

Allison was embarrassed by the attention her not-so-shy companion was bringing to them. She bowed her head and spoke quietly, “Kid, is this really where you’re going to take this? Five minutes ago you had them pegged for mafia bros, and now you’re laying on the charm.”

April shrouded her face with her hand, feigning scratching her cheek, “Sarge, they’re hot.”

They both burst out in a fit of giggles like a couple of teenagers. Allison gave her a playful punch on the arm, “You are never riding with me again.” 

April added, still laughing, “but I’m a good wingman!” 

Allison tapped her wedding ring against the side of the laptop shaking her head with a smile. “I’m not blind though, you’re not wrong about our two shady characters over there. They’re very pleasant to look at. I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation. You are officially suspended for conduct unbecoming.”

The younger girl sobered up quickly, “what?” 

“I’m kidding. Jeez, do I look like some kind of asshole?.” 

“Well, since you’re asking…” April felt like they’d breeched a wall when it came to workplace stuffiness and loosened up a bit. 

They noticed their male counterparts had as well, they were also laughing about something together. The blond shook his hair out of his eyes, and the darker haired one leaned back in his seat, relaxing further. 

Sergeant Hernandez slurped the last of her americano and motioned for the trainee to fetch a refill. “Maybe you can flirt on your way over and get lost in his beautiful blue eyes,” she teased as the girl stood to get another coffee. “Unless you’ve got some kind of daddy kink.” 

April stumbled at the remark and grabbed the edge of the table trying not to laugh at herself. Her cheeks were red as she walked by the only other occupied table and acknowledged them with another friendly nod. 

Back at the table, Allison was sending emails and suggested revisions to their reports to her patrol officers. At the first sip of her refill she stated to her new friend, “you know, this is how the tragic end of watch movies start. An unlikely friendship, bonding over stupid things, making bad decisions when it comes to bad people, and then one takes a bullet for the other saving their life...then raises their kids and names future children after them.” 

“Did we just become best friends?” April’s wiped a nonexistent tear. “Not to be too through the looking glass, but I feel like my story is totally more tragic, like Batman level tragic." 

Allison blinked slowly in sympathy, "Dude, I'm sorry." 

"I'm just kidding." April laughed, "I'm safe. Pretty vanilla life so far.'

"Same. So now maybe we both survive this tragic buddy cop movie after all." She paused for a moment before a subject change, “I’m waiting on the guys in the road to resubmit so I can approve the reports, then we can go drive around some more.”

“Sounds like a plan.” April balled up some trash and pushed it to the edge of the table to throw away later and pulled out the small notepad in her breast pocket. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do, but she’d rather her Sergeant see her doodling or taking notes rather than playing on her phone in their down time. “Hey, look at the creep outside.” She patted her supervisor’s leg.

“He definitely got my attention. Theirs too.” she motioned toward the men in the other booth.

“Who wears all black in this weather, a trench coat and gloves even. Wow. He may as well wear an LED sign that says ‘VILLAIN’.”

The thin pale man with dark hair entered the donut shop and sat down next to the blonde guy as the man across from them laid his arm across the back of the booth and leaned into the corner with the other hand out of sight. His legs were clearly spread apart under the table in an act of dominance and confidence.

“Get ready to move,” Allison said quietly, “something is about to happen. You have a better vantage point. Do you see any weapons? That one guy is clearly in the ‘Han shot first’ position. I can’t confirm that he has a weapon under the table, but I’m willing to bet my life on it. What in the hell is going on here?”

None of the three men moved or said much, it was mostly the new creepy guy speaking very quietly and the security detail glaring at him and responding with few words. As quickly as it started, it was over. The overdressed suspect walked out the door and the two remaining men looked worried and flush. 

The ladies were relieved that the imminent threat was gone, but still couldn’t shake a bad feeling. All four of the patrons in the donut shop were pretty tense at that point, but the first to move was the blonde guy. He was sweating profusely and speaking to his friend who looked very distraught as he put a firm steadying hand on the kid’s shoulder. 

There was a strange pop from outside and the power went out. Luckily, the afternoon sun kept everything decently lit inside the store, but it was still unnerving as everyone was already on edge.

The older man nervously slid out of his seat with his hand tucked inside of his jacket and slowly approached the clerk at the counter. He revealed his Glock and held it waist level on top of the counter.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Allison turned toward her shoulder mic and pressed the button on the handheld radio at her waist to talk. The unit made no attempt to transmit, it was dead. Noticing the equipment failure, April tried to key up on her own radio to no avail. It was then that they noticed the laptop wasn’t on and the emergency generator never kicked on. Nothing electronic worked at all anymore.

“I guess we’re on own.” Sarge ordered her breathlessly, “You cover the blonde, and I’ll take the other one.” 

April stood slowly so as not to spook their suspects and Allison followed behind her, creeping toward the gunman slowly with her firearm raised. “Hey.” she announced calmly, pleasantly. “I need you to put down that gun and put your hands in the air.”

“I can’t.” He responded without moving, his gun steadied on the clerk behind the counter who was trying to back away with his hands in the air.

“Yes you can. You don’t have to do this. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I’m sure you don’t either.”

“I don’t.”

“Then put down the gun.”

“I can’t.” His teeth were clenched as he spoke, he was nervous, not scared for himself, but scared for someone else...everyone else.

“I don’t think you’re a bad guy, I can see it in your eyes, but I need you to put that gun down.” She urged again.

April was a couple feet away from the blonde in the booth; he was lying down in the booth, apparently unconscious. Not wanting to distract her commanding officer, she kept her observation to herself. She pulled one hand away from her gun and went for his neck to check for a pulse. It was there, weak but fast. What in the hell was going on?

Allison side stepped closer to the counter to try to make eye contact with the gunman who hadn’t moved an inch. She was in line with him against the wall of donut displays, but still about 8 feet away. “Please. Just put it down.”

His breath hitched and he laid his gun down on the counter and turned as slowly as possible to face her while raising his hands, palm out, into the air. A shot rang out, striking April; she was down on the ground. Allison fired, shooting the gunman in the gut, and he went down.

Her eyes flicked back and forth between the downed suspect and her fellow officer. “Officer Mitchell, are you ok?” No answer. She went for her shoulder mic again remembering that it didn’t work and let out an expletive. “Officer Mitchell, are you code four?” She crept toward the assailant and took his gun from the counter, walking backward to put it on another table out of reach. She approached his body again, kicking his ankles from the inside to locate the secondary weapon she was sure he had. 

Once he was fully disarmed, she walked backward to get a visual on her partner. “April, are you ok?” 

The other officer gasped and finally responded, panting. “Yeah, knocked the wind out of me is all.” she pushed herself up to a seated position and picked up her gun off the ground. “Something weird is going on. Did you see this guy?” she pointed to the younger guy who was who was passed out in the booth. 

“What the fuck is happening?”


	2. Murdoc's plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV swap.

Murdoc slid into the booth next to Mac, the always creepy smile plastered on his face. “Well good afternoon, gentlemen." He placed his gloved hands flat on the table. 

"What do you want? Just get it over with so I don't have to look at your greasy ugly mug." Jack snarled as he adjusted his body, posturing to assert his dominance. His gun was already in his hand, aimed at Murdoc underneath the table, Han Solo style, and Han shot first.

"Okay then," Murdoc laced his fingers together and pushed them palm out in a quick stretch before placing them in his lap. "I know you boys are on a road trip. So I'll let you get back to your little pit stop at this quaint little donut shop." He waved one hand around in the air, "I see you have some admirers back there in the corner."

Mac felt a sting in his side, eyes widening and nostrils flared as he realized what just happened. His eyes pleaded to Jack not to react while simultaneously apologizing for the worry Jack was about to shoulder for his partner. 

"What did you do you fucking scumbag?"

"I've just injected dear Angus with a poison of my own concoction. I won't tell you what it does or how it will affect your darling boy, but if you play along, I will deliver the antidote to the Phoenix in 18 hours."

"What did you do?" Jack asked again, the fire in his eyes barely masked by his need to keep calm.

"All will be revealed in due time." Murdoc smiled.

"I swear to God I will shoot you right now." Jack started and was interrupted by Murdoc wagging a finger in the air toward Jack.

"Nuh uh uh. If you kill me, Angus will never get his antidote."

"What do I need to do, you fucking nutjob? I'll play your game, just fix him."

"Oh sweet Jackie boy, are you willing to sacrifice yourself to save your boy?" Murdoc didn't wait for an answer, he already knew it. "Just wait for my signal. You'll know when you see it. And then you'll walk over to that counter over there and you'll rob the place. You'll point your little gun at the clerk, the ladies in the back will notice, and someone in here will be shot. The who depends on you, Agent Dalton." Murdoc continued to divulge the plan with a satisfied smirk. "Will it be the employees? Will it be the pretty little policewomen in the back? Or will it be the middle aged man with the skinny jeans and an affinity for golden age hip hop?"

Jack snarled at the last comment. "And what if I refuse?"

"Then Mac," Murdoc accentuated the k sound with a click, "will not receive his antidote, and I'll make sure this little stickup turns into a full on bloodbath. I have eyes on sights on you to make sure you play the game. No cheating."

Jack snarled, stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

Murdoc got up and flitted out the door, "I'll be seeing you."

"Mac, tell me everything that's happening, smells, tastes, feeling. I need to know what to tell the docs so we can pin this down and fix it."

"I-uuh my mouth feels dry, taste of sulfur in the back of my throat, uh, my head is swimming, and I feel a-a-a weird ache in my joints. And sweaty. Vision clear, but my ears are kind of ringing. Not really ringing, but a hum like when you're under water."

"I swear next time we find that lunatic, I'm gonna kill 'em myself with my bare hands."

"What are you gonna do, Jack. You can't shoot any of these innocent people on my account. I couldn't live with that."

"If I don't do what he says, there won't be a you to get all angsty over this. I'll figure something out. None of them are gonna get hurt, I promise." He put his hand on Mac's shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. 

The small scale EMP went off with a pop, knocking out all of the electronics in and around the tiny strip mall. Jack looked at his watch for confirmation that it was more than just a power outage. "I guess it's showtime. You still ok, buddy?"

Mac nodded, he was having trouble staying upright and wasn't able to speak, but he didn't want to worry Jack. 

Jack slid out of the booth and went to work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for our heroes to escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This final chapter was very long, so being the asshole that I am, I broke it into two chapters. Final part tomorrow. Thanks for indulging me in my middle of the night drunken word vomit, folks.

"You sure you're alright?" Allison asked, unzipping April's shirt and putting her finger through the hole from the inside. 

April holstered her gun and ran her hand over her tied back hair. "What's wrong with this guy?" She pointed at the blonde. "Did he OD? Do we get the Narcan?"

"No." The voice by the counter startled them. 

Allison held her weapon in front and walked around the table to the man on the ground, a pool of blood forming beneath him. 

He groaned and spoke, "I didn't shoot your partner. It came from outside. Check the hole in the window." He didn't move, remaining as motionless as possible. "Someone is out there watching. Pulling the strings." She looked at the window to confirm there was a bullet hole there. "Probably going for a head shot, but the glass deflected it. She's lucky."

"What's wrong with your friend?" Allison asked as she took another tentative step toward the suspect on the ground. 

"Poisoned. I'll explain everything in a few minutes, but I need you to do something."

"No." She was flippant, looking at him beyond the barrel of her Glock. 

He huffed, "Please. I didn't shoot your partner, and mine's gonna die if we don't do this right."

"I'm gonna need a little bit more than that." Her hands shook as she kept the weapon pointed at him.

"We were set up by that greasy guy dressed in black. Now please help me." He pleaded

She thought about the events of the last few minutes, trying to put the pieces together, but nothing fit right. She needed to find out more. "What is it you need me to do?'

"You need to find something to cover me up, like a tarp or a sheet you'd put over a body, flip a few tables on their side like you're blocking off a crime scene. I'll sneak out from under the tarp and we can get out of your hair."

She trained her gun on him again, "You're not going anywhere, but I'll help you play possum if it means you can tell me what is going on."

"I will.” His response was genuine. “Tell me how Mac is doing." 

"Mac? Is that your friend's name?" April asked, leaning over the younger man in the booth. "Hey Mac," she shook his shoulder. "Mac?" she patted his cheek and checked his pulse again. "He's not waking up. He's really pale and sweaty."

Allison called out to the store owner as she holstered her gun, "hey Dev, everything is ok now. I need you to tell me where to find a tarp or something to cover this guy. And I want you and Melissa to go hide in the dry storage closet and barricade it until I tell you to come out." 

Dev stood from his crouch behind the counter and headed to the back. The senior officer followed and returned with a blue tarp. She covered the man on the ground and tossed a towel to him to press to his wound after he was out of view of the window. She flipped two tables to block off the area and joined April. 

"Get him on his back." Allison instructed. 

The girls rolled the blonde onto his back and folded up his legs to fit into the booth. His hair was sweat soaked and his lips were pale to match his skin save for the dark circles forming under his eyes.

Jack scooted across the floor on his back until he was out from under the tarp, sliding facilitated by the pool of blood underneath him. He hid in the small opening between the dining room and the kitchen out of view from the windows. He pressed the towel to his abdomen with his forearm and pressed the hole in his back with his hand, grunting from the pain of pressure. 

"Bring him here." Jack pleaded. 

April grabbed under Mac’s shoulders and pulled him up to her chest effortlessly. “Grab his legs before they hit the ground.” 

Allison complied and grabbed underneath Mac’s knees sliding herself between his legs to walk backward toward his friend. They lowered him gingerly to the ground and put his head in Jack's lap.

"Oh Mac," the man was near tears, the women weren't sure if it was from pain or concern for his friend. "Hey buddy, I need you to wake up and talk to me. I can't carry you this time, so I need you to help me out." He wiped his eyes, frustrated at every aspect of the situation. He stroked Mac's hair back, the sweat held it in place. "You're burnin' up, son." The concern in his voice increasing as he assessed the temperature on various parts of the kid's body, finally resting his hand on his forehead again.

"Can one of you ladies find me a wet towel or something? He's too hot." His charm broke through the clear worry in his voice.

Allison expediently scrounged up the supplies and returned, sitting next to Jack on his wounded side, her defenses worn down by his compassion for his partner. "You need to keep pressure on this." She told him. 

He never took his eyes off his partner. "I know, but I gotta look after him. That's more important." 

She wrapped a cold bag of royal blue icing from the cooler in a wet towel and placed it on Mac's forehead, then stuck another behind his neck. Allison pressed a dry towel into Jack's side and back, the pressure making him hiss. "Now talk. Start with your name and what you're doing here."

"Name's Jack, this is Mac." He pressed on the compress on Mac's forehead before flipping it over, concern obvious over how warm the under side had become. 

"That's a start, now why are you holding up this donut shop? What's with the EMP? And why?" She pressed a little harder once the blood started to show through the folded layers of towel. 

"That shady dude who was in here, he's like the epitome of a movie supervillain, right down to his creepy smile, black trench coat, and stupid gloves." He took a strained breath, frustrated by the absurdity of the whole situation. "And he's been playing cat and mouse with my boy Mac here for years. Like he's some kind of greasy haired Lex Luthor, but with a pension for psychological and physical torture. A real madman."

"Ok, that doesn't tell me anything."

"Well, he apparently tracked us down, injected Mac with some unknown poison, and told me that the only way to get the antidote was to hold up this place." 

"That doesn't make any sense at all.” She grabbed another towel from the countertop above and pressed it on top of the soaked one. “That's pretty far fetched, and kind of ridiculous. Why does this Lex Luthor need you to hold up the donut shop, in front of two uniformed officers? Shouldn't he already have money." Allison was unamused by the yarn he was spinning.

"Part of the cat and mouse. My boy here's really smart. Like a genius. He manages to get out of every situation Murdoc puts him in, but I think he's tired of me getting in the way too. Adds a less fun element to his game." Jack deflated as he spoke.

"Yeah, we pegged you as security detail." Allison added, proud of the way they’d accurately sized this pair up immediately.

Jack raised his eyebrow. “I’ve been his overwatch for damn near a decade. I can’t imagine my life without him. He’s my brother.” He stroked Mac’s hair again before slipping his hand between the buttons of Mac’s shirt to take comfort in the reassurance of his heart beating. “I’d do anything for him and Murdoc knows it. I’m actually surprised he didn’t force me to kill everyone in here to save Mac.” He looked up pensively and shook his head, “Mac would never forgive me for that,” Jack shrugged, “small miracles.” 

“But why?”

“The sick fuck gets off on it. And he probably wanted me to go down, suicide by cop or something.” 

“How did he know we’d be here.” The sergeant still wasn’t convinced he was on the level, but she was leaning that way.

“He probably didn’t, but he’s a devious little shit. He has snipers out there,” he pointed toward the windows, “that’s who got your partner. Having you shoot me was just convenient for him.”

“Sorry about that. I’ve never shot an unarmed man before...or any man.” Allison apologized.

Jack tried to flash a charming smile, “Well seeing as I had a gun just seconds before a bullet took your partner down...I’m just glad you didn’t go for the kill shot. I’m sure the sniper would have had you not done it first.“

“Let’s get you guys out of here and to a hospital.”

“No.” He refused, “Mac’s been dosed with an unidentifiable homemade poison. Don’t want to risk making it worse. And Murdoc promised he’d have the antidote delivered to our agency in 18 hours if I did what he told me to.”

“And why do you believe him?”

“I don’t think he’s ready to be rid of Mac, he wants to be rid of me so he can play his games without extra obstacles. I believe he will come through. So as terrible as this looks,” he looked at Mac’s lax face, “I believe he wants Mac to survive the next 18 hours. Me on the other hand…”

“I don’t even know what to do with this information. I’ve got to get you some help. I’m gonna leave you here with Officer Mitchell while I see how far this EMP went. I’ll find a car and slip you guys out the back. I’ll talk to my people and have them declare you dead or something...keep the scene closed off. We can at least tie that up in red tape for a day and a half before Lex Luthor realizes you’re still out there.”

Jack nodded his acknowledgement and she left to check their surroundings, motioning for April to sit with the men.

“You alright?” He asked April as she approached.

She let out an unexpected laugh, “yeah. Can’t say the same for you.” April sat cross legged next to Jack’s injured side and cringed as the movement reminded her of the impact of the high powered projectile stopped by her chestplate. 

Jack hissed as she pressed the forgotten towel to his belly. They sat in eerie quiet until April went in search of more towels once blood soaked through all the layers of the old ones. He was leaning over toward his partner when she returned.

“Hey man...sir, you need to stay awake.”

“Jack,” he droned. “It’s Jack, and I’m awake. Just...tired.” he felt helpless and frustrated, but didn’t want to get into it. “Tired” would have to do. 

“I don’t have any experience to base this on, but you’re bleeding...a lot. Like a lot a lot. You really should keep pressure on this until we can get something better in place.” April had a small epiphany and disappeared behind the counter searching for a first aid kit. Finally locating one back in the kitchen, she returned with a red and white box. She cracked the plastic clips open on the side and pulled out a package containing gauze and a long bandage roll before donning a pair of vinyl gloves. 

She pulled up his shirt to inspect the wound as blood continued to slowly pulse from it. April pressed the gauze pads onto the wound. “I’m gonna need you to lean forward a little.” He complied with a pained groan. She wrapped the roll bandage around his abdomen as tightly as she could to hold the bandage down with at least some pressure on it. They would need to get mobile soon. 

Allison returned with no good news, breathless and disheveled from running in her full gear, “everything is out at least half a mile, but I have a short term plan. Come on out the back.” She looked at the two men on the ground, both pale and sweaty, at a loss on how to get everyone to a safer location. 

April saw the gears turning and spoke up, “I’ve got him.” She pointed to Mac and earned confused looks from the two older people. She indicated to Jack with her eyes to let go of Mac before she squatted and pulled Mac over her shoulder effortlessly in a fireman’s carry. “I lift. Competitively. But that doesn’t mean I can do this forever, let’s go!”

With a hand up from Allison, Jack was pulled to his feet, swaying for a moment before shaking off the dizziness. She wordlessly offered him her shoulder for support, but he declined for the moment. The four headed out the back door. Jack insisted on pulling up the rear so he could keep an eye on Mac, but April challenged that he be in front of her in case he fell out. 

They walked and stumbled a quarter mile through some sparse woods to a small house with an RV parked out front. Allison pointed to it, “Old man Jenkins is a hardcore prepper. The place was hit by the EMP so the RV won’t work, but I’m willing to bet that he has some kind of apocalypse supplies inside.”

Jack spoke up, panting every so often, “Old man Jenkins? That sounds like a Scooby Doo villain.” His attempt at breaking the heavy silence with some humor was the first thing he’d said since they left the donut shop.

“Where do you think I got the name from?” Allison smiled. “He’s not so much a villain as a weird reclusive sort. Very paranoid, and surely already hunkered down in some underground bunker as soon as the EMP hit. Unless has has some kind of can on strings security system, he won’t know we’re breaking in to his RV to borrow some supplies.” Allison pulled on the door latch. It didn’t open. She pulled a tiny lock pick kit from her pocket and opened the door effortlessly within seconds to two pair of intrigued raised eyebrows. She shrugged, “can’t a girl have a hobby?”

April had run out of steam by the time she got up the three steps into the camper, dropping Mac as gently as possible onto the two seater sofa inside. Jack slid underneath Mac’s head and shoulders checking him over as the girls searched the drawers and cabinets for some decent medical supplies. 

“Yahtzee!” The older woman yelled from the bedroom. She emerged a moment later with a large tackle box. Allison placed it on the table near the kitchenette and opened it up displaying the full contents before heading to the door to leave. “Can you take care of this?” She asked April who nodded in response. “I’m going to go try to find a car again. If I’m not back in 15 minutes, head out and find cover. I don’t know if your creep is still watching us, or if Old Man Jenkins is on his way back. Lay low, keep quiet. I’ll be back soon.”

The absence of lights humming, fans turning, and vehicle engines was more unnerving than it was peaceful. April ran her hand under the dinette table, looking for a latch to lower it to convert it into a bed. She made quick work of it and turned to Jack, motioning for him to move to the flat surface so she could patch him up again. Jack had no intention of leaving his partner, not even to move a few feet away.

April recognized this stubbornness and tried to find her own leverage to get him to cooperate. She located a washcloth and a room temperature water bottle in the inert refrigerator. Her heavy boots crossed the entire room in two steps as she grabbed and cracked the cold pack from the first aid kit as well. Placing the cold pack on Mac’s still hot forehead and the wet rag under his shirt, she grabbed Jack by the hand to wordlessly let him know he was going to move or she was going to move him. 

Jack reluctantly laid down on the bed with a grunt. The bleeding only got worse with their trek to the RV. April gloved up and lifted his blood soaked shirt; she snipped the previously applied bandage wrap with a pair of scissors and flushed the wound area with a bottle from the well stocked first aid kit. The supplies were even better than the trauma kits they kept in their patrol cars. She watched his face, silently apologizing for the pain she had to inflict, but he only winced a little, keeping his eyes on his young partner across the room the whole time. 

“I’m sorry.” she tried to put him at ease with conversation, more to take her own mind off the very unusual situation their coffee run turned into. “Soooo, what do you do for a living?” She asked, hoping to distract the man. 

He didn’t answer, so she probed a little deeper, hoping to find something to start a conversation. “Is he your son?” she asked with a lopsided grin? 

He turned his head forward to look at her with a smirk. “Do I look old enough to be his daddy?” he spoke with more sarcasm than she’d expected.

“Uh, no?” April stuttered. “You just seem super protective.” She stood up straight for a moment to stretch out the burning in her back from the exertion of carrying a grown man earlier. As she hunched back over to pack Jack’s wound she continued, “and I’m just trying to break the ice. It’s not every day that I get so...intimate with another man’s bodily fluids.” Her eyes went wide, “oh god, that was not supposed to come out that way.” Her blush was immediately noticeable and that made Jack chuckle. 

“I know you’re just trying to help, sweetheart, but you don’t have to do this. I can get it.”

“No, no. I’m not squeamish, just not a fan of awkward silence.” She patted the wound area as dry as she could get it while continuing to blather on, “there was a period of several years where I actually let my mom cut my hair because I didn’t want to deal with the awkward silence at the hair salon. I mean, they’ve got the small talk thing down to a science, but I feel like I need to elaborate more to keep them from feeling like they need to ask more of the smalltalk questions to cover up the quiet, and I ramble on and on giving the most inappropriate details…” she let out an exasperated sigh, “just like I’m doing right now.” 

“You’re doing great,” the man reassured before looking back over at his partner.

She ripped the QuikClot package open, “this is gonna hurt,” she warned before pressing and holding the packing against the entry and exit wound.

He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, trying to breathe through it. She pressed harder, he could see she was counting the time in her head, hoping the bleeding stopped before she got to the three minute mark.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's been shot, Mac's been poisoned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I sat on this so long before posting it. Enjoy

Allison knocked on the green door on the brick ranch style home. An elderly man answered the door with a smile. “Lieutenant Hernandez, is it Thursday already?” The Sergeant had been visiting Ezekiel Robinson every Thursday for several years, bringing him dinner and making sure he had what he needed for the rest of the week. His family lived on the east coast, and he was capable of taking care of himself, but sometimes he needed someone to check in on him. Being present in the community she served was important to Allison. 

“Thanks for the promotion Mr. Robinson, but it’s not Thursday. This is not a social call.”

He guided her in through the front door with his arm across her shoulder. “Is something wrong?”

She hesitated, wondering how much information to give him that wouldn’t cause a problem with his slowly declining mental health. “No, everything’s fine, but I was wondering if I could borrow your beautiful Cutlass. My patrol car is broken down, and I’ve got some pressing matters to attend to.”

“Of course, honey. It probably needs to be driven, I haven’t started her up in weeks. I know how it upsets you when I drive. My daughter has that grocery delivery sent every week so I don’t even have to go anywhere anymore.” 

“Good, good.” She led him to his recliner in his living room. “Are the keys still on the hook in the kitchen?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” he answered as he lowered himself slowly into the chair. 

She located the keys, “hey Zeke, I know you use the landline, but do you have a cell phone I might be able to use? Mine is dead and I really need to call Oscar.”

“Check the drawer by the dishwasher. I haven’t turned that thing on in a month, but my granddaughter says there are a lot of prepaid minutes I should use to call my great grandbabies. I told her that’s a two way street.”

“You’re so right, Mr. Robinson. I’ll bring this back to you later, ok?” she walked back into the room with the phone and keys in hand, hoping he didn’t notice she was in a hurry and clearly trying to cut the visit short. “Do you need anything before I go?”

“No, sweetie. Good luck with your car troubles.” He waved as she went to the door without haste. 

She slid into the driver’s seat of the 1984 Cutlass Supreme, ecstatic when it started up immediately and had a full tank of gas. The gigantic car's very roomy back bench seat would serve their needs perfectly. She drove back toward Old Man Jenkins RV in a hurry, hoping she was still within her 15 minute window. She fiddled with the cell phone, trying to power it on and hopefully connect to a working cell tower. 

April watched through the door of the camper for her supervisor’s return and motioned to Jack that it was time to leave when she saw the champagne colored car pull up. He braced himself against the wall, sliding toward the door as the girl scooped Mac into her arms. 

Allison circled the car, opening the rear passenger door for April to load Mac in and opened the other rear door for Jack as she hopped back into the driver’s seat. 

After placing the blonde gently into the back seat, she lowered his head and shoulders into Jack's lap. He gave her an appreciative grin as he accepted his charge and wrapped both arms around him. She folded Mac’s legs into the car and leaned them against the back of the back seat. April disappeared into the camper and returned with the tackle box filled with first aid gear. 

The tires spun in the gravel that surrounded the RV as the Oldsmobile's V8 engine was pushed harder than the elderly owner had ever driven it. Allison looked at Jack in the rear view mirror, "so where are we supposed to take you now?"

"The Phoenix. In LA." 

April turned her whole torso around to face the back seat, "as in Los Angeles? As in three hours away because it's really fuckin far away and the traffic there is shit."

"Call our boss. She can send a jet." Jack responded, cradling Mac's head. Feeling and checking various parts of his face to confirm that the fever had actually gone down some. 

Allison argued, "It'll still have to get here and get you and then go back. There's got to be a better way, you both need medical attention. Sooner than later." 

"She can get in touch with a local Medevac, get some help quicker." Jack explained, his voice slower, strained.

"Just...let me…" the driver sputtered as she grabbed the phone, cursing at the screen dimming to indicate the battery was at 10%. "April, will you search the glove box for a charger for this thing." She checked with no success, sticking her hands into the velvety pouches on the door panel; she turned up nothing. 

April frantically checked under the seat before getting on her knees to check the back seat behind her. She dug into the pockets in the back of the seats still searching for an elusive phone charger. 

Jack spoke up as he stroked Mac's temple with his thumb, "My boy here could make a battery for that phone with a piece of duct tape and a fishin' reel." Mac seemed to respond to that with a grunt. Jack perked up, "hey buddy, you comin' back to me?" He spoke softly and sweetly. The blonde turned his face toward Jack's voice and groaned. "That's it. Come on back." Mac's eyelids fluttered, unfocused eyes shined up at his partner. 

Still turned around facing the back seat, April couldn't help but smile at the younger man's reemergence, astonished by how bright his blue eyes were. 

“Jack?” the blonde’s question answered immediately when Jack grabbed onto both of his hands with one of his own and squeezed. 

“Right here, hoss. I got you.” Jack reassured. His smile threatening to split his face in two. “You back with me now?” 

Mac blinked quickly several times and wiggled little bits from his head down to his toes as if to reactivate his body piece by piece. He tried to sit up and was stopped by Jack’s strong hand. “No, I’m good.” Mac insisted. Jack helped ease him up to sitting, letting Mac settle most of his weight on Jack’s shoulder.

“How long was I…” Mac started to ask when he noticed the blood all over Jack’s hand and shirt as Jack attempted to gauge Mac’s temperature with the back of his hand to his forehead. He brushed the sweaty blond hair back and checked again just to confirm his findings. The fever had broken. “Jack, you’re hurt.” Mac lunged, as much as his sluggish freshly risen self could, toward the bottom of Jack’s shirt to lift it to check the damage.

“Just a bullet,” Jack nudged his shirt back down, “I’ve had worse.”

“What the fuck?” The driver yelled. “You’ve had WORSE?”

Mac had paid no mind to his surroundings, knowing Jack would have done everything in his power to keep them safe. Upon noticing he was in the back of an unfamiliar old car with two strangers, he still wasn’t alarmed. Jack was there and only worried about him. 

She continued, “I fucking shot you. What’s worse than that?” She huffed, trying to get her voice under control, but it came out as a rant. “Who the fuck are you, and why did I even consider your weird ass story as even a partial truth. I would have just walked out if I didn’t have to write up a report and do tons of paperwork already to explain why I was so reckless in my duties. Why I shot an unarmed man. Why I let him hold up the fucking donut shop and then snuck him out the back like some kind of ridiculous heist movie. This is why I have 8 cats. I’m a sucker.”

“Hang on, lady.” Jack was patient and apologetic, sounding progressively weaker. “We are on the level. I swear. I need you to get on the phone with our boss and she’ll fix everything. You got a piece of paper?”

April pulled the pen and small notepad from her breast pocket and handed them to Jack, watching him scratch out numbers and words on it before handing it back. He leaned forward, groaning with the pain from the change in position, “call this number. Give this code, and this phrase. Put it on speaker.”

“Give it to me,” Allison, still flustered by the whole situation, took the pad and dialed the number, steering the gold colored land yacht with her knees. 

She gave the passcode and credentials and an even angrier female voice came over the phone, “Dalton! We got an EMP strike in the same area where you and Mac just happen to be this afternoon. Conveniently at the same time your phones went off the grid. Mind telling me what the HELL you are doing?”

“Oh, um.” Allison was at a loss for words. “This is Sergeant Allison Hernandez with the TCPD.” 

“Ok Sergeant Allison Hernandez with the TCPD, how did you get this number.” the voice on the other end responded with an eerie stern calm as she snapped her fingers at the other people in the war room with her to send them into action researching the caller.

“There was an incident. This man requested that we call you for assistance.”

“Ok Sergeant Hernandez, I need to know where my agents are.” Matty skimmed the personal information about the officer as it popped up on the big screen in the war room. The phone’s location popped up next. 

“They’re here, in the back seat. One has a GSW through and through to the abdomen, and the other was ...poisoned.” her voice rose with a questioning tone at the end, losing every bit of authority she’d tried to convey earlier.

“Put Jack on the phone!”

Allison switched the phone to speaker and handed it to April to hold over the back seat.

“Dalton, sitrep!” the angry voice called from the phone.

“Matty, we’re here. We’re ok. Mostly. I think. Mac’s not. He’s been out for the last half hour. Murdoc poisoned him with something.” Jack tried to sound confident and strong, but he was looking pale and sweaty.

“Do we know what?”

“Nah, he said it was a concoction of his own devising or whatever creepy ass words he likes to use. Mac, tell her what you’d said earlier about cottonmouth and a sulfur taste.”

“Jack, I don’t remember anything from today. I don’t understand what’s going on. I don’t know who these people are or why you’re bleeding.” 

“Matty, can you send a medevac to meet us somewhere? Mac doesn’t look so good. He spiked a real high fever earlier and was out for a long time. He still looks really flush and is confused.” Jack pressed his hand to Mac’s forehead again, “Feeling warm again.”

Mac was indignant, “That’s because you’ve lost too much blood. Your hands are ice cold, Jack.” 

“No, I’m fine. Got patched up by the little red-haired officer real good.” Jack explained and April grinned with pride before she realized no one on the phone would see. 

“I’ll send coordinates to this phone for you to meet the medevac.”

“Not gonna work. Battery’s almost dead.” April interjected.

“You’re not in Somalia, stop somewhere and get a charger.” Matty’s voice was dripping with frustrated sarcasm.

“Yes, ma’am.” Allison complied as she contemplated the nearest gas station where they could get a car charger before her brain started to go off the rails with distracted counter-productive thoughts due to stress. She wondered if it was safe to use her credit card at one of these seedier gas stations outside of her town, then if an EMP would have messed up the chip in her credit card, followed by a mental count of the cash she thought she had in her wallet before checking back in with the present. “Oh, which way are we headed, exactly?”

“I’ll let you know when we get it arranged, for now head west. Get a charger for this phone, take care of my boys, and call your husband.”

“Excuse me?” Allison was caught off guard. How did they know she wanted to call her husband?

“Your department is looking for you. They think the two of you were kidnapped and taken hostage in a hold up at a donut shop.” 

“Fuck.” the older officer exclaimed, hitting the steering wheel as she pulled off at a gas station. How did they even know about the donut shop or that she was married? Lucky guess? Big brother watching? A little bit of both? She tossed April her wallet, the division of labor unstated but clear, and dialed her husband’s number.

A male answered, “Mr. Robinson? Hello? Are you all right?” 

“Oscar, sweetie, it’s me. We’re ok.”

His sigh of relief was heard over the phone, “oh god. Thank God. What happened?”

“It’s fine. Long story.”

“Dev said your rookie got shot!” 

“No, well yeah, she did, but it was to the vest. She’s bruised but fine.” 

“They said there’s blood everywhere”

“Long story.” she sighed, lacking a better answer.

“Where are you?”

“Long story. Just...I borrowed Zeke’s car and phone, it’s just a really long story and I’ll tell you later. Try to do some damage control for us and let everyone know everything’s fine. I’ll call you when I can and keep you updated.” 

“What? Why? Where are you and why aren’t you coming back?”

“I promise everything is fine and I’ll tell you later. Ok, love?” The phone powered down. She wasn’t sure if her last sentence was even heard. 

April slid back into the car clearly amused by her gas station encounter as the car took off westbound again, “So apparently having a little blood smeared on your arms and a hole in your shirt means free cell phone charger. The guy said just take it and shooed me out the door.” She tore at the clamshell packaging, twisting and pulling without even damaging it. 

Allison reached for her pocket and shrugged, “I can’t get to my knife while sitting down, there’s too much crap on this belt. Try melting it with the cigarette lighter.” She suggested as she punched in the car’s lighter to heat it up.

The quiet blonde in the back seat reached over the front seat with a red Swiss Army Knife. April thanked him with a genuine smile and pulled out the blade to break through the plastic packaging. 

The cigarette lighter popped back out with a louder than expected click to indicate it was heated and ready to burn, startling everyone. Allison grabbed it and discarded it into the ashtray so that April could plug in their new charger.

Once the phone had a little juice, it powered on. The meet coordinates were displayed on the phone as soon as it received a signal, and the phone’s operating system had been overridden by the Phoenix. Allison tried to initiate a call to Oscar and failed, several times. The only thing on the phone was the map to their destination with their actual location showing as a dot like on a GPS map. 

She tossed the phone to her partner who fumbled it. The phone fell to the floor and bounced back into the seat from the springy coil of the new charger. “Try to get this thing to make a phone call. I’m too old for technology, apparently.” 

“No,” Mac corrected, “our agency has probably taken over the phone’s OS, you won’t be able to make a call or do anything except exactly what they want you to do. They’re probably listening to it too.”

The older woman shuddered, “Who do you work for anyway? I’m very...unnerved by the...by everything right this second.” 

He didn’t answer. Jack looked over to his partner to let him know that at that point, their identities could probably be divulged to their new acquaintances. Mac was staring at the seatback in front of him, completely oblivious. 

“Hey,” Jack turned toward his partner, ignoring the lightning bolt of pain that came with the movement. “Mac.” He put his hand across Mac’s shoulder and felt all of the muscles tense. Mac's eyes rolled and his head tipped back as he began to seize. “Shit! Mac!” Jack wrapped both arms around Mac’s chest and biceps and laid him across his lap. He announced to no one in particular in the car, “He’s seizing!”

“Oh no.” Allison pulled the car to the shoulder.

“No, keep going. I’ve got him.”

“You’re not supposed to hold him down.”

“I know, but we are in the back seat of a car, there ain’t a lot of options. Just keep driving.” Jack closed his eyes, holding his breath and holding his partner tight. He held on to him as if he let up at all, Mac might float away. He didn’t know how long the seizure lasted, but it felt like an eternity. Mac’s body slowly slowly unclenched until he drooped like a ragdoll in Jack’s arms. He rolled Mac onto his side and rested his head in the crook of Jack’s elbow. 

Jack helplessly watched, Mac’s chest pressed against his own. He felt Mac breathe in hitched gasps for several minutes, stroking long messy hair with his right hand, whispering reassurances that were more for himself than his partner. He felt the prickle of tears at the corners of his eyes; he could shoot an enemy insurgent, protect his boy from encroaching terrorists while defusing a bomb, and patch up the little booboos received along the way, but nothing could take away his feeling of absolute helplessness.

The front seat occupants sat in silence, unable to do anything that would fix the situation, stealing occasional glances in the rear view mirror to check on the men themselves. 

“Hey,” Jack’s voice from the back seat was quiet, unsure. “What’s the ETA to the medevac location?” He cracked a half grin in an attempt to diffuse the tense air in the car. “This kid’s gonna be dehydrated from sweating.”

“You need me to crank the A/C?” Allison asked, not really sure how to respond. 

“Yeah,” Jack lied, Mac’s skin was hot, but Jack was freezing, his legs were starting to shake from the chill he couldn’t escape. “He’s a furnace. Guess that fever’s spiked again.” 

April grabbed and cracked a cold pack from the tackle box she’d liberated from the RV. She turned around in her seat to place it on Mac’s forehead. She noticed the pallor of Jack’s face and circles darkening under his eyes.

He caught her staring and tried to steer a conversation away from himself and Mac. “So why do police officers write people tickets for not wearing seatbelts, but they don’t wear seatbelts themselves? Neither one of you is wearing a seat belt. That’s a little hypocritical, don’t ya think?”

“Neither are you.” Allison added as April turned back around to face forward. “But nice distraction technique.” She paused, making eye contact with Jack in the rearview mirror “Let me guess, you’re the loudmouth of the pair, using your observational humor to distract people from what your partner is really doing.” 

Jack’s smirk was the confirmation she was looking for so she pressed on. “What about right now? Is this one of those?”

“If it was, you sure messed it up by shooting me.” 

“Or maybe that was part of your plan.”

“Big gamble.” 

“I’m sure you’ve challenged much worse odds and won.” her words were supposed to be sassy, but sounded more like a compliment, furthering her irritation at her lack of control of the situation. 

Jack didn’t say anything further on the subject. “You wanna turn on some music? And how about that ETA?”

“Says 28 minutes.” Allison glanced at the phone before looking at the stereo, hoping the presets were assigned so she didn’t have to fiddle with the knobs while driving. She smashed the silver buttons, one by one, hoping for something to come in somewhat clear. Eventually a signal came through with some static, she turned the knob back and forth lightly to tune it in. Her satisfied smirk apparent when clear waves of classic rock came quietly through the speakers. 

April, having not been in a car made before she was born, was intrigued by the archaic preset push buttons and tuning knobs. “That was a lot of work to find ONE random radio station.” Both Jack and Allison snickered in response. 

Jack looked at his much younger partner’s sleeping face and smiled, recalling a similar conversation they’d had in the GTO. He decided to impart his wisdom on her as well, “That was your only option, sweetheart. If you were lucky, you got a tape deck.” Mac stirred a little and seemed to pull in closer at hearing the familiar cadence and timbre of Jack's storytelling voice.

Allison finished, “And you couldn’t keep tapes in the car in the summer or they’d warp. I was SO upset when my mom had left her Supertramp tape on top of the center console for a few days."

"Tragic." Jack responded, hoping talking would rouse his partner or at least put him at ease. "My first melted tape was GNR, Use Your Illusion 2. Left it sitting in my old Plymouth Duster on the seat right after I got my license."

"Oh wow, could have been worse. Could have been Use Your Illusion 1." Allison said as they made eye contact in the rearview. 

Jack was keen to keep talking despite how tired he was after seeing how it comforted Mac. "Damn straight. After that I just made mixtape copies to leave in the car...until I got a discman and a tape adapter in college." Jack smiled.

"Kids these days have it so easy!" She smiled back at him. "I invented this device, mostly a ziploc bag filled with water, that when you put the discman on it in the car, it absorbs the shock so your cd didn't skip every single time the asphalt had the slightest divot. It wasn't perfect, but it cut down about forty percent on the skipping."

"That's good. I just rode with mine on my thigh. Didn't know if my girl was trying to change the track or get a little...you know." Jack winked with a cheeky grin and Allison blushed.

"Oh jeez!" April was appalled and couldn't help but laugh. "Gross!"

Mac finally looked like he was in a peaceful slumber, relaxed without a furrowed brow. Jack was relieved. He lowered Mac back down to his lap and readjusted the cold pack before pushing Mac's knees together and rolling him onto his side, trying to keep the kid comfortable. 

He watched his partner, rubbing his back with a soothing rhythm. Up and down, up and down, and three big circles. He kept it up, repeating the pattern over and over. Jack didn't even notice the girls had gone quiet. 

The uneasiness in the car was palpable again. The two women had only known each other for a few hours, having only been workplace acquaintances exchanging pleasantries in passing. The two men were obviously very close to each other, but both were complete strangers to the officers. The scene in the back seat was private and personal, the protector holding his charge tightly despite being hurt himself. The officers felt like intruders just being in the front seat. 

April picked at her cuticles, manicured only a few days before. None of the men in their squad could tell her where in the SOP nail colors were addressed, so she’d approached Allison at the shooting range the previous week to ask if she could wear blue. Allison answered by showing her her trigger finger, the only one exposed while wearing the range gloves. It was topped with dark purple polish, and she was excited from that day forward to finally get a chance to work closely with one of the other few female officers in their department and the only other one in their precinct. She had no idea their day together would be so...interesting, to say the least. She reflected on the chaos of the day, unzipping her polyester uniform shirt and untucking her undershirt to take a look at her forming bruise. 

Allison’s guilt for shooting Jack had been easy to dismiss while they were actively looking for solutions, but in the quiet awkward car ride, it was chipping away at her. She’d pondered the right words to say, having the conversation in her head 18 different ways. Did she want to be sincere, professional, funny? She measured all of the options while listening to the phone give her directions on exactly where to go, not even noticing the music that was playing quietly on the radio.

Ten minutes away from their destination, she finally blurted out her well practiced apology, except it wasn’t what she’d hope to say, it was just, “Hey man, I’m sorry I shot you.” She immediately regretted her stupid words that tumbled out, eloquence and professionalism had flown out the window. She cringed and looked into the rear view mirror for his reaction since he’d had nothing to say back. 

She couldn’t see him anymore, so she straightened her back to get a better view into the back seat. Allison still couldn’t see him well and rotated her trunk to see the back seat for herself. “Aw, fuck.”

The coin toss decision whether to stop the car and check on them or drive faster was made. She smacked April on the arm to get her attention and motioned with her head toward the back seat. Jack’s head was down, chin tucked to his chest and bobbing with the bumps in the road. April Got on her knees to try to reach them in the back seat. Her belt got caught on the seat and her holster rammed Allison in the shoulder. April unfastened her keepers as quickly as she could to shed the bulky belt and access the back seat more easily.

April balanced her hips on the seat back hooking her heel under the glove compartment for better leverage. She gripped Jack’s chin and lifted it, he was even more pale than before and not rousing even after a few light cheek taps. She let his head lean back against his seat and checked for a pulse on his neck. Proof of life was there and she moved on. 

The blonde was still out. She checked his pulse as well and tried to slide him out of Jack’s lap to get to the wound to check it. First she tried to pull Mac by the arms, but he nearly fell into the floorboard with a breathy groan. Then she grabbed him by the hips to try to fold him into the other seat, but couldn’t get a good grip from her weird positioning over the back of the seat. She eventually got him into a mostly seated position by stuffing her hands under his shoulders and leaning him against the passenger side door. 

Finding it difficult to actually reach Jack’s wound from her spot, she climbed over the seat and squeezed between the two men, sitting on her knees facing backward. She’d hoped all the blood on the back of the seat was residual from his soaked t-shirt, but he’d apparently dislodged his dressing dealing with Mac and was bleeding slowly but heavily from the exit wound.

“Dammit.” April leaned back over the front seat to grab the tackle box. She stuffed a fresh wad of gauze under the tight dressing she’d applied in the RV, hoping it would staunch a little bit of the flow. “How much longer?”

“About 5 minutes.” Allison took her eyes off the road more times than would be normally advisable to check what was going on in the back seat. “Is it bad?”

“Yeah, pretty bad.” April pressed over the bandage on his back, on her knees crammed in the floor of the back seat. 

Allison punched the gas in the old land yacht, “The kid said big brother was probably listening to us with this.” She picked up the phone, “You hear that Phoenix? We’re coming in hot. You better be ready.”

Within five minutes, the car turned into the vacant lot on two wheels, flinging April into the floor in front of Mac. She managed to catch him before he smacked his face on the seat in front of him, brushing even more blood onto his blue shirt. His hair, face, and shirt were streaked with blood from Jack’s hands. His shoulder and chest were smeared with what transferred from Jack’s shirt. From the looks of it, you wouldn’t know that Mac didn’t have a mark on him outside of a tiny pinprick on his side. 

Medics were waiting about 20 feet from the oversized chopper with two stretchers. The car came to a halt leaving tire marks on the pavement. The four personnel from the gigantic helicopter descended upon the Cutlass, pushing stretchers to either side of the vehicle. 

The men were quickly extracted from the back seat. As Mac was pulled out, he tried to hide from the bright light; his head turned weakly away from the sun high over the horizon. 

They'd expected a fight from Jack. Everything the women had observed since those two strolled into the donut shop was Jack protecting his boy. Always within arms reach to deliver comforting physical contact at any given moment. Jack didn't fight. One medic lifted Jack by the armpits, pulling him out of the car as the other supported his legs and back to transfer him to the awaiting lowered gurney. 

They were secured to the stretchers and whisked quickly into the medevac copter. April finally took a breath. She deflated across the back seat with a flood of relief because help arrived, people who knew what they were doing.

Allison was even more tense than before. Her actions may have cost someone his life. She stared blankly beyond the hood of the car at the helicopter, lost in thought. A man dressed in black TAC gear approached the door of the car, and despite her extensive training and experience with situational awareness, she didn’t even notice. He rapped on the window with one knuckle, and she startled out of a daze.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” he began and waited for acknowledgement. She looked up at him wide eyed and blinked, still lost in a swirl of emotion and stress. “I need you to come with me.”

“Huh?” Allison shook her head in confusion, she didn’t think she’d heard anything she said, the echo in her head and whooshing sound in her ears started to dissipate after the adrenaline crash. April cracked an eye and peeked at the individual. Allison rolled the window down to facilitate communication.

“You two need to come with us.” He explained further.

Allison countered, “But we’re not hurt.”

“Please, come with me.” his pleasantries were negated by his tone of voice.

Allison spoke slowly and with conviction, “No. I’m going home.” April was watching now, keeping perfectly still so as not to spook the armed man.

“Ma’am.” he reached for his weapon holstered on his hip. 

Allison’s hand was on her weapon immediately to call his bluff; there was no way she’d be able to get the angle and leverage to pull her weapon out of the holster from her position. He probably already knew that. He steadied his hand on the grip of his weapon and opened the driver door.

He gripped her bicep and tried to guide her to stand outside of the car. When she refused, a second person in tactical gear with his weapon in hand was on the other side of the car where April’s feet were sticking out of the open door.

“You need to come with us. You will not be harmed.” He tried to reason with them.

Seeing April’s discarded gun belt in the floor and the second armed person, Allison surrendered. She opened the door while keeping one hand on the wheel. Standing up slowly outside of the car with her hands behind her head, she allowed him to take her firearm. He took two steps backward and waited for the signal from the other TAC person. They led the women to the Medevac copter. 

“Why?” was all April managed to say as they stood outside the door to embark, rogue pieces of hair and tendrils loosened by the intense wind whipped across her face. She couldn’t stop blinking from the assault from her hair and the air from the blades drying her eyes. 

“Debrief.” was the reply from one of their captors without any further explanation.

The medevac was large inside, intended for mass casualty incidents; capable of transporting 6 patients and an additional 8 personnel. The fact that this Phoenix got a hold of one on zero notice, complete with staff and pilot was all Allison needed to know that they were mixed up in something pretty big. 

To make matters worse, they were in jump seats facing the triage area, forced to watch everything that happened during their hour long flight back to LA. She wasn’t squeamish, blood and guts, life and death-they were a regular part of her job. Allison felt sick. Everything that happened was a direct result of her actions. She had no investment in any relationship with this man. She didn’t know him or anything about him nor did she want to, but she was the one that shot him, and she could never take that back. 

The medics secured IV lines for both men and fitted them with oxygen masks before taking off, attaching cardiac leads and oxygen saturation trackers after lift off. April seemed to be lost in thought, eyes fixated on a spot on the floor. Allison stared at a monitor watching numbers track up and down slightly, the quantifiable proof that she hadn’t committed the unthinkable and taken a human life. 

Had she told them? His agency? She couldn’t remember if she’d told them she was the one that shot their guy. That this was her fault. Maybe that’s why they were in custody and being taken to an unknown facility in LA. Poor April, the kid didn’t deserve to be brought into any of this. Would she even continue down this career path after that shitstorm. Two lives potentially ruined that day directly because of her own actions, maybe more. Maybe it was time to retire early, maybe focus on community outreach. The community wouldn’t want her, the officer that killed an unarmed man. Nearly twenty years of positive police work undone by…

Alarms blaring snapped her out of her spiral. Two medics who’d been previously seated near the patients circled her gunshot victim. She wasn’t sure what had happened or changed with his status, her brain refused to process anything logical or form coherent thoughts. All she could do was watch. Her eyes were drawn to his face, pale. A stark comparison to the person in the coffee shop who smiled so genuinely at his friend that the lines around his eyes wrinkled in the most endearing way. She imagined he was a boisterous caretaker, a teddy bear with a dark streak, always putting himself before others. Hell, he’d even managed to make pleasant conversation with the person that shot him while bleeding out and holding his unconscious partner in the back of a car. She’d really fucked up.

Whatever had happened seemed to rouse the younger guy. He tried to sit up, but was strapped down. He turned his head to look at Jack and immediately reached out to him. He put his hand on Jack's forearm. Within a minute, the alarms had silenced and everything seemed to have stabilized.

The medics checked a few things over once again and took their seats. Allison watched his oxygen mask, mesmerized by the hypnotic shrinking and growing of the fog and a tiny drops of condensation starting to form. Mac's hand still rested on Jack's arm, he seemed to be drawing comfort from it...or the other way around...probably a mutual comfort. 

April had her elbows on her knees leaning over, staring down at her boots. She’d not said a word since they were forced aboard. Taking a cue from the other guys, Allison placed her hand gently on April’s shoulder. April sat straight up with a startled gasp. 

Allison snatched her hand away and apologized, “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I just jumped is all. I’m a little on edge. This is kind of surreal.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m not doing any better over here.” she smoothed her now unruly hair back. “I’m sorry I got you into this mess.” Allison apologized again and April responded with a confused look. 

“You didn’t set off an EMP, poison that dude, and then make the other guy rob the donut shop. I think the fault on this one lies with the creepy guy in the black trench coat.”

“True, but I overreacted. I shot someone.” She motioned toward Jack with her eyes as she gripped the tops of her knees until her knuckles turned white. “And now we’re on the way to LA to be ‘debriefed’.”

“Hey, you were defending me. I thought he’d shot me too.” April slowly placed her hand on top of one of Allison’s. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” 

Allison released the iron grip she had on her legs and exhaled, “I’ll try.” She turned her palm up and April interlaced her fingers. They let their interlocked hands fall between the seats to ride out the rest of the flight in solidarity. 

A few minutes later, both men were alert and exchanging wordless sentiments. Mac grabbed his partner’s hand and squeezed. Allison saw that joy in Jack’s exhausted face again when he smiled at his younger partner. She felt a wave of relief and gave April’s hand a quick squeeze as well.

The relief was short lived when Allison watched Jack’s eyes roll back from across the chopper. Her breath seized in fear as his stopped. All of the available medics converged on him. One dislodged Mac’s hand and stood between the two of them as Mac yelled his name with a strength and desperation the women had not yet seen. 

Mac’s voice, muffled by the oxygen mask, cracked as he struggled to free himself of the straps holding him down. He two feet away from his partner and pawing at the medic standing between them, but he looked so alone and distraught. He yelled a heartbreaking scream of frustration, and was still ignored, squirming to get out of his restraints.

April approached him and gripped his hand tight while placing the other on his bicep to get his attention. “Hey, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” she wasn’t sure exactly what to say to comfort him, but words tumbled out on their own. “Let them do their thing. They’ll take care of him, and I’ll keep you company.” Her smile was sweet and genuine. Mac also knew the futility of his struggle and started to settle. 

He steadied his panicked breaths and reached to remove his oxygen mask. 

“Should you be doing that?” April asked.

“I’m good. I just need to sit up.” He motioned to the lever under the gurney. “Can you?”

April looked at the bar and shrugged, giving it a pull as she elevated the head of the bed according to the diagram next to it. 

“Thank you.” Mac told her. His change in vantage point hadn’t helped his view, but he felt less trapped. 

April watched them work on the older man beyond the shoulder of a medic, trying to be Mac’s eyes on the situation. She’d seen it happen in the field and knew it wasn’t good. Mac was listening to the commands and the voices, eyes closed to concentrate on the key words. He just needed to hear Jack was ok. 

As they landed, status still wasn’t clear. Jack was rolled out first. All Mac could see was a medic’s elbow out squeezing an ambu bag. Phoenix medical staff boarded to wheel Mac out and into their sick bay in the building. 

The girls were left with the pilot and the two TAC guys. Allison finally threw up the knot that had been plaguing her stomach for the past hour, apologizing profusely to anyone within earshot and cursing emphatically. Once the helipad was clear of personnel, the women were led from the copter by the TAC guys into the building.

They were stripped of their belts, uniform shirts, and pocket contents and put into two separate interrogation rooms...or holding cells, it wasn’t clear. The cot on the floor in contrast to the table by the two way mirror only sent the message that they’d probably be there for a while. Allison’s Goonies shirt had holes in the armpit, she didn’t expect anyone to see her out of uniform when she’d dressed that morning. 

Allison had no sense of the passage of time, no clock, no windows. She could have been there for days and wouldn’t have known. She paced the room slowly, counting the drop ceiling tiles and floor tiles with each lap. The thud of her boots hitting the ground started to give her a headache, so she discarded them and walked around the room in her most definitely non regulation pink argyle socks. She lost count somewhere after the 250th lap, calculating the area of the room and seconds to traverse the room to give some semblance of quantifiable time keeping. She gave up and laid on the cot, shielding her eyes from the fluorescent lights with her elbow as she sobbed in frustration until she fell asleep. 

The sound of the door slamming startled Allison awake as she shot up to a sitting position on the cot. Through puffy red eyes and blurred contact lenses, she saw a diminutive woman with a commanding presence order her to take a seat at the table.

Allison’s face held back nothing, her eyes were apologetic, nostrils flared in fear, and mouth turned down in sadness as the other woman made stern eye contact. The silence lasted a painful minute before the professionally dressed woman slid a file folder to Allison without a word.

Allison opened the folder and flipped through the sheets of paper, even more confused than previously. After flipping the last page, she looked up questioning what she’d just read.

“That,” Matty pointed at the paper, “is your police report for the incident at the donut shop.”

“But I didn’t write this.” Allison confessed.

“I know. I wrote it.”

“But it’s signed by me with a submission time stamp. I didn’t do that.”

“Because I did.” Matty’s tone of voice was clearly agitated.

“So he died?” her voice cracked on the last word as tears started to fall. She felt sick to her stomach again.

“No! Suck it up, Sergeant. This police report cleans up the mess. We’ve somehow managed to settle the shit storm in your city, blaming the power grid for the EMP even though that’s not only improbable, but impossible. We’ve declared our agent DOA, by your hands, so we could get the antidote from that weasel, Murdoc.”

“How did you get all this information? The details? Did you talk to Dev about it?”

“No, your partner was luckily trained well in observing and relaying in explicit detail. And your friend, Dev, was a mess. He was easy to convince him that he saw what we told him he saw. You and your partner took the two ‘civilian’ would-be robbers to the hospital, one was dead on arrival and the other, suffering from an apparent drug overdose, was scooped up by a mysterious benefactor and sent to a rehab facility in LA. So Murdoc thinks Jacks is dead and knows we swooped in to save Mac under the guise of a rehab facility.” 

“Did you get the antidote?” Allison asked sheepishly.

Matty put a tablet down on the table and swiped through a few pictures showing Allison the delivery and apprehension of the courier bringing the antidote. “About 15 minutes ago, this arrived.” She showed the box and contents, a small bottle with the antidote and a handwritten note that just said: _Sorry about your dad. Be seeing you Angus._

“That’s so creepy.” Allison frowned. “Did you get anything out of the delivery guy?”

“No. And I know we won’t, but we’re going to let him sweat in an interrogation room anyway.” 

Hmph, Allison muttered looking around the room. “Where’s my husband? He’s got to be worried sick. How long have I even been here?”

“He’s running point for us with two of our other agents on site. He knows you’re fine. He only knows what he needs to know. What’s in this report is exactly what happened. You’re not to tell anyone anything else. You and your partner will be sent home shortly.” Matty turned to leave.

“How is he?” Allison couldn’t make eye contact, her voice full of shame.

“Not good. He’s still in surgery,” was Matty’s succinct answer.

“Will you let me know?”

“No. You will forget anyone and everyone you met here.”

Allison’s brow furrowed, “You can do that? You have a-a-thing to do that like in sci-fi movies?”

“No! Good grief!” She slammed the door behind her and left Allison alone with her thoughts.

The women were shipped home in a smaller helicopter. Allison got sick four times during the flight. Back home, April took a week off and an order for mandatory bi-weekly psych appointments. 

Allison took two weeks, per policy, for use of force, pending investigation. Her psych appointments were three days a week, then two. She took two more weeks of leave. Then another two. Eventually she and Oscar spent a month in Mexico, visiting his family. Then they spent two weeks in Cancun. Eventually, she stopped thinking about Jack, about his smile and his eyes. The way his life was drained out of him in less than 90 minutes by her hand. The screams of his partner. She had no intentions of ever holding a gun again, hoping for an early retirement at the insistence of her shrink. 

But she felt good. Getting away with her husband, reevaluating their stance on having kids, relaxing together did wonders for her ability to feel at peace, finally. She was less reliant on nighttime sleep aids and the nightmares were less frequent.

Ten weeks after the incident, Allison was looking at her finances, weighing the health benefits of retiring early vs the financial benefits of sticking around for another decade, maybe get off patrol and be a detective. Her phone rang, an unknown number. She was inactive good mood, why not toy with the robodialer on the other end.

"Yep." She answered confidently, not offering pleasantries. 

"Aaaaaalison" the male voice on the other end sang. 

"Come on. I know you're not Elvis Costello. Who is this?"

The voice continued to sing "Allison, I know this world is killing you. Oh, Allison, my aim is true. Well I see you've got a husband now."

"Creep!" She pulled the phone away from her ear to hit the end call button.

"Wait wait wait! I'm sorry." The male stammered. "Now that I think about it, that was kinda tasteless. A little tacky. I'm sorry." 

"Who is this? Is that you, Alex?"

"No, this is Jack."

"I don't know any Jack. Is this some kind of a sick joke?" She was clearly upset.

"No, it's me, Jack. The guy you shot a couple months ago. It's that Jack."

"What?"

"Well I had my girl check up on you and that partner of yours, and it looked like you weren’t doing very well, like mentally, and no one ever told you that I was ok."

"I was told to forget that it ever happened. Like it was just a switch to flip." She sighed and took a deep breath, "and I know it doesn't mean much, but I am sorry."

"I know. I'm sorry no one followed up with you. If I knew that, I would have touched base sooner. That wasn't fair for them to hold a grudge like that. Of all the people who've shot me, you're the only one that wasn't actually trying to kill me."

She snorted, "I guess that's a nice way to see it. Do you actually have tally sheet somewhere with a column for malicious intent and a column for disarming or self defense?" 

It was his turn to laugh, "nah, but I can draw a smiley face on the scars if it makes you feel better."

"It really doesn't." She asked the question that had lingered on her tongue for the entire conversation. "How bad was it?"

"Do you really want to know? Like all the gory details."

"Yeah. Kinda. I've got the opportunity to actually get information after months of thinking that I'd never know...I feel like I need to know."

"Well...I was in a medically induced coma for two weeks." She gasped and he backtracked, "ok not really." He heard a relieved sigh and continued, "it was only 10 days"

"Jeez. Ok, maybe I don't want to know. I feel awful again."

"Would it help if I told you I'm fine? Fully recovered."

"Kinda. Yeah. But ten days? Fuck. I'm so sorry."

"Hey man, I don't remember any of that 10 days, I was septic and they didn't want my organs to shut down. It's fine. I think my kids got some gray hairs, but it serves 'em right for all they've given me."

"Well at least that was the worst of it?"

"Nah. That was the ostomy. That was pretty awful. But it's gone now too as of a couple weeks ago. Another fun little scar from that one to go along with the gigantic vertical incision from my underwear to my rib cage. Well not quite horizontal, they did it at a slight angle to avoid my bellybutton. I can't have my shirt off around Mac anymore, well besides the obvious memory of the long coma and the almost dying thing, the way it's not symmetrical really pisses him off more than anything."

"I want to tell you to stop talking, but I'm afraid that what I don't get from you now will always be a question looming over my head."

He laughed and she pictured his smiling face from the donut shop as he spoke. "I get that. Well anyway, I'm ok. And I wanted...no, I needed you to know that. Ok?"

She raised an eyebrow, lacking a proper response. "Thanks, I guess?"

"No problem. I hope you feel better." His chipper sign off before disconnecting had her really confused, but she actually did feel better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, that's it. That's the end.

**Author's Note:**

> What the hell is going on indeed. Chapter 2 and 3 will be put out the following 2 days.
> 
> I wrote this for Cairo Week 2020 for Outsider POV day, but I wasn't too confident about this one and didn't post it then. But fuck it, got nothing to lose by posting it! Write for yourself! Plus it's another excuse to whump Mac and Jack.


End file.
